Raven raven,
upon the sky,
I'd wish this world had room for you and I.
These black hearts, these lost souls,
these fragile dreams of foolish hopes..
You posses wings but art not free,
crowned with your thorny wreath..
we're both chained by guilt,
the guilt of being..
We are the black misfits of this world so free,
tortured by our own pain and misery.
Raven raven, can we ever be free? ..
David Joergensen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its whimsical and wistful. Like a little chant, but so much more. Think though that it should be 'We are' rather than we're.